It came to me in a fortune cookie... “You may experience stress in the coming week. De-stress yourself by doing Hot Yoga” The fortune couldn’t have been more true. Six high-profile clients have contracts up for renewal, we’re short-staffed by two people and for some reason, I deemed it to be a logical idea to quit drinking coffee this week. Now I’m standing here with a fortune in one hand and a brief case in the other staring confusedly at the “Uncle Ronnie’s Hot Yoga and Massage Studio” sign across the street from the office. I often joked with my boss about the place. Just the name itself screamed “shady” to me. “You’re kind of the shady guy in the office anyways, so you’ll fit right in,” he usually countered. De-stress yourself by doing Hot Yoga Was it ridiculous to try something just because I was told to by a cookie? Hard to say, really. The $20 I won from the “lucky numbers” in Lottomax were pointing my mind in one direction, but I had yet to encounter the wish-granting Gypsy. I fished through my pockets for the other fortune. There it is among the mounting pile of receipts … “A Gypsy will grant you a wish.” I had been overly cautious over the last week to avoid saying “I wish” to anyone I encountered in the off chance they happened to be a Gypsy and I ended up getting stuck in a monkey-claw scenario I could only assume would end unfavourably. Maybe Uncle Ronnie was a Gypsy? Maybe my weekly craving for Lemon Chicken and Fried Rice were somehow a divine symbol. Maybe the gods that sent me regularly for deep fried lunchy goodness were trying to reward me with ultimate relaxation and the potential for ultimate luxury. Just one wish. So much responsibility. What if, upon seeing some horrifying mess in “Uncle Ronnie’s” studio I wished I could erase the memory from my mind … and Gypsy Uncle Ronnie didn’t hear me properly and erased my memory completely? Maybe he has some sort of deal going on with the chinese food place and this is how he assembles cheap labour. Maybe Uncle Ronnie’s Hot Yoga and Massage Studio is employed entirely by corporate slackers like myself that were hoping for some sort of easy-out. The Big Score – a Hot Yoga session and the big lottery win. How long have I been standing here debating this? Snow had been accumulating on my dropped briefcase while I stared with a glazed look at the Yoga and Massage Studio sign with a crumpled fortune in each hand. Whatever happened to the “in bed” game? I scolded myself quietly for taking the fortunes so seriously, but remained motionless. “This is ridiculous,” I thought again. Fortunes shouldn’t really come true. And even if thy did, what are the odds that Uncle Ronnie is not only a Gypsy, but also able to grant wishes. In my mind I wished for a coffee while an old lady bumped into me from behind…
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